Delphi Poetry Anthology: The World's Greatest Poems (Delphi Poets Series Book 50)

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Delphi Poetry Anthology: The World's Greatest Poems (Delphi Poets Series Book 50) Page 49

by Homer


  To thing which after schal him grieve.

  The ferste of hem thou schalt believe 580

  Is Pride, which is principal,

  And hath with him in special

  Ministres five ful diverse,

  Of whiche, as I the schal reherse,

  The ferste is seid Ypocrisie.

  If thou art of his compaignie,

  Tell forth, my Sone, and schrif the clene.

  I wot noght, fader, what ye mene:

  Bot this I wolde you beseche,

  That ye me be som weie teche 590

  What is to ben an ypocrite;

  And thanne if I be forto wyte,

  I wol beknowen, as it is.

  Mi Sone, an ypocrite is this,-

  A man which feigneth conscience,

  As thogh it were al innocence,

  Withoute, and is noght so withinne;

  And doth so for he wolde winne

  Of his desir the vein astat.

  And whanne he comth anon therat, 600

  He scheweth thanne what he was,

  The corn is torned into gras,

  That was a Rose is thanne a thorn,

  And he that was a Lomb beforn

  Is thanne a Wolf, and thus malice

  Under the colour of justice

  Is hid; and as the poeple telleth,

  These ordres witen where he duelleth,

  As he that of here conseil is,

  And thilke world which thei er this 610

  Forsoken, he drawth in ayein:

  He clotheth richesse, as men sein,

  Under the simplesce of poverte,

  And doth to seme of gret decerte

  Thing which is litel worth withinne:

  He seith in open, fy! to Sinne,

  And in secre ther is no vice

  Of which that he nis a Norrice:

  And evere his chiere is sobre and softe,

  And where he goth he blesseth ofte, 620

  Wherof the blinde world he dreccheth.

  Bot yet al only he ne streccheth

  His reule upon religioun,

  Bot next to that condicioun

  In suche as clepe hem holy cherche

  It scheweth ek how he can werche

  Among tho wyde furred hodes,

  To geten hem the worldes goodes.

  And thei hemself ben thilke same

  That setten most the world in blame, 630

  Bot yet in contraire of her lore

  Ther is nothing thei loven more;

  So that semende of liht thei werke

  The dedes whiche are inward derke.

  And thus this double Ypocrisie

  With his devolte apparantie

  A viser set upon his face,

  Wherof toward this worldes grace

  He semeth to be riht wel thewed,

  And yit his herte is al beschrewed. 640

  Bot natheles he stant believed,

  And hath his pourpos ofte achieved

  Of worschipe and of worldes welthe,

  And takth it, as who seith, be stelthe

  Thurgh coverture of his fallas.

  And riht so in semblable cas

  This vice hath ek his officers

  Among these othre seculers

  Of grete men, for of the smale

  As for tacompte he set no tale, 650

  Bot thei that passen the comune

  With suche him liketh to comune,

  And where he seith he wol socoure

  The poeple, there he woll devoure;

  For now aday is manyon

  Which spekth of Peter and of John

  And thenketh Judas in his herte.

  Ther schal no worldes good asterte

  His hond, and yit he yifth almesse

  And fasteth ofte and hiereth Messe: 660

  With mea culpa, which he seith,

  Upon his brest fullofte he leith

  His hond, and cast upward his yhe,

  As thogh he Cristes face syhe;

  So that it seemeth ate syhte,

  As he al one alle othre myhte

  Rescoue with his holy bede.

  Bot yet his herte in other stede

  Among hise bedes most devoute

  Goth in the worldes cause aboute, 670

  How that he myhte his warisoun

  Encresce. And in comparisoun

  Ther ben lovers of such a sort,

  That feignen hem an humble port,

  And al is bot Ypocrisie,

  Which with deceipte and flaterie

  Hath many a worthi wif beguiled.

  For whanne he hath his tunge affiled,

  With softe speche and with lesinge,

  Forth with his fals pitous lokynge, 680

  He wolde make a womman wene

  To gon upon the faire grene,

  Whan that sche falleth in the Mir.

  For if he may have his desir,

  How so falle of the remenant,

  He halt no word of covenant;

  Bot er the time that he spede,

  Ther is no sleihte at thilke nede,

  Which eny loves faitour mai,

  That he ne put it in assai, 690

  As him belongeth forto done.

  The colour of the reyni Mone

  With medicine upon his face

  He set, and thanne he axeth grace,

  As he which hath sieknesse feigned.

  Whan his visage is so desteigned,

  With yhe upcast on hire he siketh,

  And many a contenance he piketh,

  To bringen hire in to believe

  Of thing which that he wolde achieve, 700

  Wherof he berth the pale hewe;

  And for he wolde seme trewe,

  He makth him siek, whan he is heil.

  Bot whanne he berth lowest the Seil,

  Thanne is he swiftest to beguile

  The womman, which that ilke while

  Set upon him feith or credence.

  Mi Sone, if thou thi conscience

  Entamed hast in such a wise,

  In schrifte thou thee myht avise 710

  And telle it me, if it be so.

  Min holy fader, certes no.

  As forto feigne such sieknesse

  It nedeth noght, for this witnesse

  I take of god, that my corage

  Hath ben mor siek than my visage.

  And ek this mai I wel avowe,

  So lowe cowthe I nevere bowe

  To feigne humilite withoute,

  That me ne leste betre loute 720

  With alle the thoghtes of myn herte;

  For that thing schal me nevere asterte,

  I speke as to my lady diere,

  To make hire eny feigned chiere.

  God wot wel there I lye noght,

  Mi chiere hath be such as my thoght;

  For in good feith, this lieveth wel,

  Mi will was betre a thousendel

  Than eny chiere that I cowthe.

  Bot, Sire, if I have in my yowthe 730

  Don other wise in other place,

  I put me therof in your grace:

  For this excusen I ne schal,

  That I have elles overal

  To love and to his compaignie

  Be plein withoute Ypocrisie;

  Bot ther is on the which I serve,

  Althogh I may no thonk deserve,

  To whom yet nevere into this day

  I seide onlyche or ye or nay, 740

  Bot if it so were in my thoght.

  As touchende othre seie I noght

  That I nam somdel forto wyte

  Of that ye clepe an ypocrite.

  Mi Sone, it sit wel every wiht

  To kepe his word in trowthe upryht

  Towardes love in alle wise.

  For who that wolde him wel avise

  What hath befalle in this matiere,

  He scholde noght with feigned chiere 750

  Deceive Love in no degre.

  To love is every herte fre,

  Bot in
deceipte if that thou feignest

  And therupon thi lust atteignest,

  That thow hast wonne with thi wyle,

  Thogh it thee like for a whyle,

  Thou schalt it afterward repente.

  And forto prove myn entente,

  I finde ensample in a Croniqe

  Of hem that love so beswike. 760

  It fell be olde daies thus,

  Whil themperour Tiberius

  The Monarchie of Rome ladde,

  Ther was a worthi Romein hadde

  A wif, and sche Pauline hihte,

  Which was to every mannes sihte

  Of al the Cite the faireste,

  And as men seiden, ek the beste.

  It is and hath ben evere yit,

  That so strong is no mannes wit, 770

  Which thurgh beaute ne mai be drawe

  To love, and stonde under the lawe

  Of thilke bore frele kinde,

  Which makth the hertes yhen blinde,

  Wher no reson mai be comuned:

  And in this wise stod fortuned

  This tale, of which I wolde mene;

  This wif, which in hire lustes grene

  Was fair and freissh and tendre of age,

  Sche may noght lette the corage 780

  Of him that wole on hire assote.

  Ther was a Duck, and he was hote

  Mundus, which hadde in his baillie

  To lede the chivalerie

  Of Rome, and was a worthi knyht;

  Bot yet he was noght of such myht

  The strengthe of love to withstonde,

  That he ne was so broght to honde,

  That malgre wher he wole or no,

  This yonge wif he loveth so, 790

  That he hath put al his assay

  To wynne thing which he ne may

  Gete of hire graunt in no manere,

  Be yifte of gold ne be preiere.

  And whanne he syh that be no mede

  Toward hir love he myhte spede,

  Be sleyhte feigned thanne he wroghte;

  And therupon he him bethoghte

  How that ther was in the Cite

  A temple of such auctorite, 800

  To which with gret Devocioun

  The noble wommen of the toun

  Most comunliche a pelrinage

  Gon forto preie thilke ymage

  Which the godesse of childinge is,

  And cleped was be name Ysis:

  And in hire temple thanne were,

  To reule and to ministre there

  After the lawe which was tho,

  Above alle othre Prestes tuo. 810

  This Duck, which thoghte his love gete,

  Upon a day hem tuo to mete

  Hath bede, and thei come at his heste;

  Wher that thei hadde a riche feste,

  And after mete in prive place

  This lord, which wolde his thonk pourchace,

  To ech of hem yaf thanne a yifte,

  And spak so that be weie of schrifte

  He drowh hem unto his covine,

  To helpe and schape how he Pauline 820

  After his lust deceive myhte.

  And thei here trowthes bothe plyhte,

  That thei be nyhte hire scholden wynne

  Into the temple, and he therinne

  Schal have of hire al his entente:

  And thus acorded forth thei wente.

  Now lest thurgh which ypocrisie

  Ordeigned was the tricherie,

  Wherof this ladi was deceived.

  These Prestes hadden wel conceived 830

  That sche was of gret holinesse;

  And with a contrefet simplesse,

  Which hid was in a fals corage,

  Feignende an hevenely message

  Thei come and seide unto hir thus:

  “Pauline, the god Anubus

  Hath sent ous bothe Prestes hiere,

  And seith he woll to thee appiere

  Be nyhtes time himself alone,

  For love he hath to thi persone: 840

  And therupon he hath ous bede,

  That we in Ysis temple a stede

  Honestely for thee pourveie,

  Wher thou be nyhte, as we thee seie,

  Of him schalt take avisioun.

  For upon thi condicioun,

  The which is chaste and ful of feith,

  Such pris, as he ous tolde, he leith,

  That he wol stonde of thin acord;

  And forto bere hierof record 850

  He sende ous hider bothe tuo.”

  Glad was hire innocence tho

  Of suche wordes as sche herde,

  With humble chiere and thus answerde,

  And seide that the goddes wille

  Sche was al redy to fulfille,

  That be hire housebondes leve

  Sche wolde in Ysis temple at eve

  Upon hire goddes grace abide,

  To serven him the nyhtes tide. 860

  The Prestes tho gon hom ayein,

  And sche goth to hire sovereign,

  Of goddes wille and as it was

  Sche tolde him al the pleine cas,

  Wherof he was deceived eke,

  And bad that sche hire scholde meke

  Al hol unto the goddes heste.

  And thus sche, which was al honeste

  To godward after hire entente,

  At nyht unto the temple wente, 870

  Wher that the false Prestes were;

  And thei receiven hire there

  With such a tokne of holinesse,

  As thogh thei syhen a godesse,

  And al withinne in prive place

  A softe bedd of large space

  Thei hadde mad and encourtined,

  Wher sche was afterward engined.

  Bot sche, which al honour supposeth,

  The false Prestes thanne opposeth, 880

  And axeth be what observance

  Sche myhte most to the plesance

  Of godd that nyhtes reule kepe:

  And thei hire bidden forto slepe

  Liggende upon the bedd alofte,

  For so, thei seide, al stille and softe

  God Anubus hire wolde awake.

  The conseil in this wise take,

  The Prestes fro this lady gon;

  And sche, that wiste of guile non, 890

  In the manere as it was seid

  To slepe upon the bedd is leid,

  In hope that sche scholde achieve

  Thing which stod thanne upon bilieve,

  Fulfild of alle holinesse.

  Bot sche hath failed, as I gesse,

  For in a closet faste by

  The Duck was hid so prively

  That sche him myhte noght perceive;

  And he, that thoghte to deceive, 900

  Hath such arrai upon him nome,

  That whanne he wolde unto hir come,

  It scholde semen at hire yhe

  As thogh sche verrailiche syhe

  God Anubus, and in such wise

  This ypocrite of his queintise

  Awaiteth evere til sche slepte.

  And thanne out of his place he crepte

  So stille that sche nothing herde,

  And to the bedd stalkende he ferde, 910

  And sodeinly, er sche it wiste,

  Beclipt in armes he hire kiste:

  Wherof in wommanysshe drede

  Sche wok and nyste what to rede;

  Bot he with softe wordes milde

  Conforteth hire and seith, with childe

  He wolde hire make in such a kynde

  That al the world schal have in mynde

  The worschipe of that ilke Sone;

  For he schal with the goddes wone, 920

  And ben himself a godd also.

  With suche wordes and with mo,

  The whiche he feigneth in his speche,

  This lady wit was al to seche,

  As sche which alle trowthe weneth:

  Bot he, that alle untrowthe meneth,

&
nbsp; With blinde tales so hire ladde,

  That all his wille of hire he hadde.

  And whan him thoghte it was ynowh,

  Ayein the day he him withdrowh 930

  So prively that sche ne wiste

  Wher he becom, bot as him liste

  Out of the temple he goth his weie.

  And sche began to bidde and preie

  Upon the bare ground knelende,

  And after that made hire offrende,

  And to the Prestes yiftes grete

  Sche yaf, and homward be the Strete.

  The Duck hire mette and seide thus:

  “The myhti godd which Anubus 940

  Is hote, he save the, Pauline,

  For thou art of his discipline

  So holy, that no mannes myht

  Mai do that he hath do to nyht

  Of thing which thou hast evere eschuied.

  Bot I his grace have so poursuied,

  That I was mad his lieutenant:

  Forthi be weie of covenant

  Fro this day forth I am al thin,

  And if thee like to be myn, 950

  That stant upon thin oghne wille.”

  Sche herde his tale and bar it stille,

  And hom sche wente, as it befell,

  Into hir chambre, and ther sche fell

  Upon hire bedd to wepe and crie,

  And seide: “O derke ypocrisie,

  Thurgh whos dissimilacion

  Of fals ymaginacion

  I am thus wickedly deceived!

  Bot that I have it aperceived 960

  I thonke unto the goddes alle;

  For thogh it ones be befalle,

  It schal nevere eft whil that I live,

  And thilke avou to godd I yive.”

  And thus wepende sche compleigneth,

  Hire faire face and al desteigneth

  With wofull teres of hire ije,

  So that upon this agonie

  Hire housebonde is inne come,

  And syh how sche was overcome 970

  With sorwe, and axeth what hire eileth.

  And sche with that hirself beweileth

  Welmore than sche dede afore,

  And seide, “Helas, wifhode is lore

  In me, which whilom was honeste,

  I am non other than a beste,

  Now I defouled am of tuo.”

  And as sche myhte speke tho,

  Aschamed with a pitous onde

  Sche tolde unto hir housebonde 980

  The sothe of al the hole tale,

  And in hire speche ded and pale

  Sche swouneth welnyh to the laste.

  And he hire in hise armes faste

  Uphield, and ofte swor his oth

  That he with hire is nothing wroth,

  For wel he wot sche may ther noght:

  Bot natheles withinne his thoght

  His herte stod in sori plit,

  And seide he wolde of that despit 990

  Be venged, how so evere it falle,

  And sende unto hise frendes alle.

  And whan thei weren come in fere,

  He tolde hem upon this matiere,

  And axeth hem what was to done:

  And thei avised were sone,

  And seide it thoghte hem for the beste

 

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